


Rising Wind

by gold_sakura



Series: Fictober Prompts [13]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Angst, Can't explain too much without spoilers so :), I bet most of you are tired of angst for this pairing, M/M, Occult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 11:23:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8284108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gold_sakura/pseuds/gold_sakura
Summary: The pianist was sitting by the time Wonshik had made it to the peak of the hill, his lungs tight from the exercise. Each of them remained quiet as the other regarded ththeir expressions, one so calm and the other tensed with anxiety. It wasn't until Wonshik cleared his throat that their conversation had started. “Mr. Kim, what a surprise to see you here.”“Ah please, just call me Wonshik.” The villa owner shook his head. “I should be saying that to you, Jung Taekwoon.”“I've seen you have gotten to know my name at least.”“Word travels fast in these parts.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Finally got to doing day 13! The prompt everyone voted for was Blustering Breeze. I'm not sure if anyone is tired of my occult stories yet, but here is another one~ Also people voted for Wontaek so there's that too hahaha hope you enjoy~

The rising winds atop the tallest hill had brought Taekwoon to him, all of him in his mysterious and reserved nature. The musician gracefully played each note of his piano with tentative fingers, the songs he played ringing throughout the small villa. No one was really sure how the man had gathered enough strength to have his instrument reside in that spot, but after a few days of the air carrying soft chords and melodies, the guests there never questioned it again. They had praised Wonshik for hiring such a dedicated artist to his property, one so sure of his craft that not even hard labor would prevent him from sharing his art to the world. The villa owner would have agreed entirely, if he was the one who had actually brought Taekwoon here in the first place. In all honesty, he had never heard a word of the other until his arrival, the mystifying image of a man using nature as his stage hypnotizing him as everyone else. No matter how much he denied it, Wonshik’s guests only believed he was being humble, the pianist himself telling them it was the owner who had invited him to perform with open arms. It was the second week where Wonshik first went to go speak with Taekwoon directly, to clear up the flattering, yet odd misunderstanding.

Wonshik had woken up early quite early to see Taekwoon at his usual place, his eyes focused on arranging the sheets of music he had in his case against the piano stand. That was another mystery that was yet to be solved, the villa owner clearly observing how much the papers fluttered against the winds each time the pianist had played on turbulent days. It was a wonder that not even one piece of paper followed the rough path in the sky, almost as if they were closely connected to the piano Taekwoon had with him. The pianist was sitting by the time Wonshik had made it to the peak of the hill, his lungs tight from the exercise. Each of them remained quiet as the other regarded ththeir expressions, one so calm and the other tensed with anxiety. It wasn't until Wonshik cleared his throat that their conversation had started. 

“Mr. Kim, what a surprise to see you here.”

“Ah please, just call me Wonshik.” The villa owner shook his head. “I should be saying that to you, Jung Taekwoon.”

“I've seen you have gotten to know my name at least.”

“Word travels fast in these parts.”

“I see,” Taekwoon turned his body before he stood to face Wonshik. “You must have also learned my reason for being here.”

“Somewhat, but it doesn't make any sense. Even you agree that this is our first meeting.”

“Yes, I too have only known about you through passing voices.” Taekwoon smiled slightly, his expression returning to a neutral expression when Wonshik frowned. 

“Then why have you gone and lied to the guests who have approached you?”

“I have not lied. I have told them the truth to a certain extent.”

“I never asked you to come here.”

“Perhaps not with your voice.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out one of these days. Now if you’ll excuse me Wonshik,” Taekwoon adjusted himself back to his seat, his fingers over certain piano keys. “Your regulars have requested a welcoming melody for their exquisite breakfast out in your courtyard.”

Being sent off wasn’t the reason why Wonshik was miffed; he was more angered with himself for obeying the other’s words so easily. He had already become accustomed to doing morning greetings with tinkling low chords behind his voice, to see the other’s blonde hair shine as the brightest light from the sunrise had reflected upon it in his peripheral vision. He kept his frustration hidden for most of the day, much too busy keeping his business in order to keep close watch on the pianist that everyone, including his staff, continued to praise. Wonshik had returned to the hill a few hours after dusk approached, shocked to find that both Taekwoon and his instrument were gone, not even the smallest indent showing of the trace of the artist being there. 

The same routine occurred for a long time, Wonshik doing his best to speak to the curious pianist but being dismissed or being called to attend to his duties. Taekwoon seemed to remain as calm as ever, the only change in his demeanor being eyes full of pity. Wonshik felt as if that look was meant for him, even if he was certain that he didn’t deserve such an expression. His villa was running smoothly, all of his guests staying much longer than they were planning to. The villa owner couldn’t have asked for anything more perfect.

_ Perfect. _

It was his own belief that he always had to strive for perfection and focus on his never ending worries that made Wonshik suspicious.

Taekwoon playing the same sets of songs was the first thing that threw Wonshik off. He had asked guests if he should ask the pianist to change up his pieces, to make sure his current set wouldn’t become a bore. The villa owner laughed nervously when the responses he received were ones of confusion, almost complete refusal of Wonshik’s suggestion. They had never heard anything that compared to Taekwoon’s playing and were sure that the artist never repeated a melody even once. Wonshik had apologized profusely, ensuring that he wouldn’t bother Taekwoon unless it was necessary, a lump hitting the back of his throat as he made that promise.

After making careful notes, Wonshik had soon discovered that his guests had a certain pattern to them, ones that they never strayed from even to the extent of repeating simple actions on certain days of the week. He had made sure to confirm this with his staff this time, in order not to alarm any more people than necessary. Each member had nodded that his list was correct, but made no assumption that it was odd, doing their best to encourage their boss that having so many people was a wonderful thing. Their smiles were tinged with a bit of a menacing aura, causing Wonshik to be too afraid to pester them any longer. In the dead of night, he had wandered to Taekwoon’s hill, seeing the artist stand there perfectly still for a moment, a sudden gush of wind blowing his entire presence away before Wonshik could speak.

Many inconsistencies piled up in Wonshik’s mind, too many for him to function properly in front of anybody. His guests were worried that the stress of the business must have been getting to such a young heir, while his staff had merely suggested to take the day off, stroll wherever he pleased without worrying about anything. The villa owner did just that, though his thoughts were lingering on the fact that he had been living the same days over and over again for so long. He couldn’t even be sure when the repetition had started, only that Taekwoon had brought enough consciousness to him that nothing was as it seemed. He had walked as far as the lake when the sudden smell of smoke and ashes filled his noses, enough to have him whipping around to see that his villa, his precious home was dying under hungry flames.

Wonshik sprinted with all his might to go see if anyone needed help to escape the horrible disaster that happened while he wasn’t looking. He was so close, but a hand on his shoulder yanked him back, pulling him into a strong embrace.

“Don’t go.”

“Taekwoon?” Wonshik was shocked to hear the pianist’s voice so feeble against his ear, the other man’s trembling against his.

“If you go, you won’t make it.”

“What are you talking about? There are other people there! We have to go make sure if they’re okay!”

Taekwoon laughed bitterly, his tears making him choke up a bit. “That’s what you always say when you go. You’re not even there and I’m already losing you again.”

“There’s no time for this nonsense, I -” Wonshik stopped when he felt high amounts of heat across his arms, shocked to see them graying and wasting away to glowing chars of dust with the gusts of polluted air around them. “I need to go.”

“I’m sorry.” Taekwoon muttered. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when this happened the first time. I’m sorry I took that offer to play in the biggest music hall and not taking you with me. I’m sorry for listening to you and not persuading you that you needed a well deserved break, way past the sight of these hills. I’m sorry.”

Wonshik’s head panged, images of him and the pianist living in another world, moreso another time, a time where they had met here during Taekwoon’s phase of travelling. The villa owner was immediately enraptured by the other’s presence, doing his best to woo the pianist to the best of his awkward ability. Taekwoon had fallen for his passion, lifted him up when the rest of the world wasn’t sure how to. They were a couple that never separated until a similar incident happening now caused death to force them to part ways. All of it was too familiar and yet too far away for Wonshik to comprehend. The fire in front of him was getting bigger and as much as he wanted to find out what past he had with Taekwoon, he had to save innocent people suffering, even if it meant he would die in the process. He wriggled out of the pianist’s weakening grasp.

“I have to go.”

“ . . .I suppose you’re right.” Taekwoon chuckled in contempt. “Go. I’ll return when you call for me.”

Wonshik nodded, dashing into the bright embers with no fear. He managed to get a few out, his weakening lungs falling apart the more he breathed in of the thickening fog. If he remembered correctly, Taekwoon was the only one who knew of his terrible issue with asthma. No one else would suspect he would collapse in the lobby, taking his last breaths staring up at the ceiling, smiling at the depiction of the hills that lay just beyond the doors in front of him. As he closed his eyes, he remembered that he used to adore calling his lover 'a breath of fresh air'.   
When Wonshik awoke again, he stood amongst the green hills, the sun standing in all its glory and the weather as blustering as ever. The rising winds atop the tallest hill had brought Taekwoon to him, the peculiar pianist bringing an strange sting of regret to his chest, especially when their eyes met for the first time. 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I hope the context was enough to fill in the gaps of what was going on here, but feel free to ask me anything that confuses you. I'm still practicing writing works like this so I understand if you don't get it completely  
> see you later on for day 14!


End file.
